


Making It Believable

by tamlane



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, F/M, Humor, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-10 00:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamlane/pseuds/tamlane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On his twenty-fifth birthday, Harry finds his office overflowing with numerous tacky gifts and one witch hell-bent on revenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making It Believable

**Author's Note:**

> For [lightofdaye](http://lightofdaye.livejournal.com/) on his birthday.
> 
> Thanks to I. for the beta. (April 2013)

Harry could forgive Ginny for officially dumping him two weeks before his twenty-fifth birthday. They had barely spoken for the past three months. But he would never, ever forgive her for getting caught snogging a Puddlemere Chaser shortly afterwards. Soon everyone in the Wizarding world knew he had been — what was the phrase again? — ‘shocked and devastated’ by Ginevra Weasley’s ‘callous betrayal.’ He didn't have a problem with the headline. But by his birthday, his office was crammed so full of cakes and flowers and plants and balloons that he could barely get to his desk.

If only Pansy Parkinson had the same trouble getting to his desk. She waltzed right in his office at two in the afternoon like she owned the place, knocking balloons out of the way and tossing a hex at an orchid that started hissing upon her arrival.

"Potter."

Great. He could already hear the amusement in her voice. Harry was not amused. "What now, Parkinson?" She had been making a routine out of pestering him about some improvised threat or another at least once a week. 

"What is all this?" she asked. She picked up a tray of chocolates and sniffed at them.

"It’s… " Harry thought about it. Mass female delusion? A serious threat to office efficiency? A big, fat waste of money? He settled for, "It's evidence." And he even made it sound official.

"Evidence of what?" Pansy snorted. "Other people’s bad taste?"

"Yeah, something like that," Harry mumbled. "What do you want?"

"Oh. Right." Pansy cocked one hip jauntily and studied her fingernails. "I need you to take me to the Ministry fundraiser tonight." She gave him an assessing look. "And be sure to wear something with green trim to make your eyes stand out."

Harry started to lean back in his chair but then thought better of it when a fern on the windowsill started playfully running its fronds through his messy hair. "And why would I do that?" he demanded, pushing the plant farther down the windowsill.

Pansy gave him a wicked smile and tossed a very familiar newspaper on his desk, front- page headline face up. "Because you don’t have a date, either. _Harry Potter Shocked and Devastated by Girlfriend’s Callous Betrayal ,_ " Pansy recited in a faux tearful voice. "Did she finally figure out you were gay?"

"I am _not_ gay," Harry said, through gritted teeth.

"Well, that’s a relief," Pansy said. "Because I’m going to need you to snog me, too."

"What?" Harry chuckled. "Yeah, that's gonna happen."

"You think I’m happy about it?" Pansy barked. She didn't sound happy. Not that Harry was bothered by her unhappiness. "Desperate times and all."

"Ah," Harry said. "So this is about making Malfoy jealous."

"This is about revenge," she replied. "Nothing more. Incidentally—" Again she studied her nails. "—I’ve been told I’m an excellent kisser. _But_ if you would rather go alone and be left to the mercy of the dateless and admiring hoards…."

"All right," Harry growled. As much as he hated to admit it, and as much as he liked seeing Pansy seethe, he did need a date for the fundraiser. If the state of his office was any indication of his current fan base, he was unlikely to make it through the event without being mauled. "I’ll take you." He pointed his index finger at her. "But I am _not_ picking you up. You can meet me in the lobby." He paused, examining a tasty-looking French roll and deciding it wasn't worth the risk. "And I’ll consider one strategically timed kiss for the sake of appearances. Without tongue, mind you."

"Ah, well," Pansy replied. "I'm afraid that’s not gonna work for me."

"Take it or leave it."

"Nope," she insisted. "I'm going to need some tongue."

"Uh-huh." Harry got up and attempted to make his way around his desk. A curvaceous balloon tried to whisper sweet nothings in his ear. "You know what I need?" he asked rhetorically, batting the balloon away. "Peace and quiet. So why don’t you… " Harry paused, looking around the cramped office before settling on an African violet. "Here, do you like plants?" He picked it up and jiggled it in front of Pansy. "Of course you do. Who doesn’t like flowers that sing arias? So why don’t you just take this with you and—"

"I thought you said it was evidence."

"Um." The violet began to belt out the opening stanza of _O mio babbino caro_. "No, this one is just for show," Harry insisted.

Pansy grabbed it from him and set it down on the edge of his desk, silencing it with a wave of her wand. "Look," she spat. "I’m not leaving, with or without flower sopranos, until you promise me some tongue. Honestly, Potter. Do you think an innocent little peck is going to make Malf—er, I mean, suffice for the righteous purpose of revenge?" She raised one eyebrow. "Or convince anyone that _you_ are off limits?" She poked him in the chest. "This has to be _believable_."

"Fine!" Harry relented, raising his hands. "Fine, a little bit of tongue then. But we keep it to less than five seconds." He smirked. "And if you behave, I might even suck on your neck." He had absolutely no intention of sucking on Pansy Parkinson's neck.

She didn't look sold on the idea, either, but she looked like she was willing to make the sacrifice. "Now we’re getting somewhere," she replied snootily.

"But you’re still here," Harry pointed out.

"Yes. Well." She suddenly looked uncomfortable. "We should probably practice."

Harry laughed. "Excuse me?"

"The kiss," Pansy needlessly elaborated, rolling her eyes. All right, so maybe _excuse me_ had not been his wittiest retort of the day.

"Wait," Harry said. "You honestly expect me to kiss you _twice_? As in once now and once at the fundraiser?" The hissing orchid did not like the idea any more than Harry did. "Now you’re just— _mmph_!"

Pansy didn't wait to find out what she was. She grabbed Harry by his shirt and mashed their lips together. Harry held his arms out to the sides helplessly. He wanted to push her away, but honestly, he was scared that if he touched her at all, she would consider it encouragement. At least there was no tongue.

She pushed _him_ away instead. "I knew it," she snapped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "You’re shite."

"You attacked me!" Harry bellowed. "I could have you drawn up on charges!" He wouldn’t. But still. "Anyway," he continued more peevishly, "you’ve got to give a bloke some warning."

She grabbed onto his shirt again, and Harry steeled himself for another assault. She was really in a feisty mood today. Malfoy must have done something truly unforgiveable this time. But she didn't kiss him again. Instead, she started shaking him. 

"You think we’ll have ample warning tonight?" Now she sounded a bit hysterical. "No. You've got to be ready to go, Potter, at the drop of a hat." Her eyes were crazy. "The window on revenge does not stay open forever! And frankly, I expect much better reflexes from someone who’s meant to be keeping the peace." She bared her teeth. "Now, you and I are going to practice this until we can make it believable, so just—"

Seeing no other way to end this insanity, Harry covered her mouth with his, effectively cutting her off. She thought he was shite? She thought he wouldn't be ready to go at the drop of a hat? She thought he couldn't make it believable?

Right.

He threaded his fingers into Pansy's hair and moved his lips against hers in a teasing rhythm. She wanted tongue? Yeah, he'd give her tongue. He slowly worked small thrusts of his tongue into the rhythm, punctuated by an occasional nip of his teeth.

Pansy moaned. All right, _that_ was unexpected, but Harry worked with it. He changed the angle and deepened the kiss. Pansy's arms were crushed awkwardly between them, so Harry reached down with one hand and pulled at her wrists, encouraging her to lift her hands to his shoulders.

And when her tiny fingers made contact with the nape of his neck, Harry's head started to spin. This was… well, it had been a while since he kissed anyone, granted, but this was _good_. She'd said she was a fair kisser, and she was. In fact, before long, she was leading the kiss. She thrust her own tongue into his mouth in a slow, slick simulation of sex. Now Harry was moaning. And when the sound left his throat in a deep rumble, Pansy responded by pulling him closer.

The kiss became frantic. Pansy grasped a fistful of his shirt and started yanking it free of his trousers. Wait. Was the door still open? Damn if he cared. He was going to stop in a minute, anyway. In just a minute…. But first he wanted to taste her neck. And yeah, maybe he'd scoffed at the idea earlier, but that was before she threw her head back, baring it to him. Obviously the only reasonable course of action here was to close his lips around her pulse point and suck.

That certainly made her howl. Pansy's hands worked their way under his now loose shirttail, nails scratching down his back. Harry hissed at the sensation and answered by nipping sharply at her earlobe, which only made Pansy groan more loudly. Then one of her hands slipped down to his arse. She lifted one of her legs and pulled him closer, grinding shamelessly against him. Harry left a trail of wet kisses over her jaw before finally making it back to her lips, and suddenly he couldn't get enough… thrusting and grinding, all teeth and nails and soft slide of tongues—

A cough came from the door, and Harry and Pansy jumped apart as though they had been hexed. "Delivery for Mr. Potter."

It was a miniature rose bush decorated with real Galleons. 

"I'll take that," Pansy said, grabbing the plant and signing the release as Harry stood there panting and almost bursting out of his trousers.

She shooed the delivery man away and turned back to Harry. "So," she said, as though they had not just practically started fucking while standing up in his office. "I think we've established our… credibility. Meet you in the lobby at seven?"

"Er."

Pansy couldn't seem to take her eyes off his trousers. "Oh, and I’ve already reserved a corsage for myself in the 20-Galleon range at Blooms & Baubles, so you’ll need to stop by there before six and pick it up."

"Oi!" Harry yelled after her, but she was already gone, leaving him with nothing but a very believable erection.

_The End_


End file.
